Posted: Wednesday, January 28, 2009 | |

(she was a poet first)

Witness, I remember

Witness, I remember,
A stalling of lips to lips
And we would slow down for ripeness
or for the naked,
we would slow down

Witness, I remember,
fighting in high-churched times
and domed words, round and soft and
I remember to forget

Witness, I remember,
tasting blue sky eyes and a slippery tongue
remember and remember and
it looms, absolute
untouchable moons
I remember, I forget



I am one singular ache, one
I am one confused girl after another
Ache, ache
Burn, burn, burst
Your face above me, while inside me-
lower jaw slightly out, mouth slightly slack then clenched
same as your face above me, while furious
body ripped toward me animal up from bed-side retreat
and you pet my hair for 5 seconds flat
sharp and hard,
pet, pet, peeettt
'after all, you are just a little student, aren't you?'
just like that he said it
quick-flinch but not much from your little student
And I fear maelstroms as much as I moan while they rock me
back and forth and we're at a see-saw draw
I am one singular ache, one
I am one girl raped for something or another
lust, lust
burn burn
you burst


One last thought on rasped refrains
‘catch me!’
before I cough the bones right out of my
before it’s salt crusted openings and
green tinted words
this is hard to swallow
sticky reality
‘Every fall, I catch tin thoughts in jars and shake, shake them around and listen’
‘every fall, I catch mistake shaped stamps and cover my eyes’
every fall, I transform
and this one, whoa,
this one will be a doozy

City Paris Rips

The first time I said goodbye,
Literally (not figuratively)
to my childhood was sometime around
just this week
whispered into evergreen,
slow uh-huh breaths of words
and the soft, brown needled earth
love you, goodbye
first time my faith was cracked
not rattled, not broken,
literally (not figuratively)
in love, paving paths was sometime around
greeted by a chromatic sunrise
amidst metal windows
and metal wings
Back, Paris! back, i'm here.
grey reception, cold, brooding
Paris is seeing me! i said
greeting me with open arms
you flashed a smirk and figured out ways
to deter me
test me
Now it's okay?
Is it?
Always morning after sun
after the rain
I am made of more than this and
I counted you by the ribs present in my finger portrait
I counted you, on
And instead, I'm back in the gauntlet.


New York Reds

The sentiments arrive in
your lithe figure ensconced in red,
lit by the lounge's lamps
your eyes, oh god!
smiling on their own, two mirrors
of the exact thing I had been afflicted with since meeting you,
love, seeing love
your carnal mouth soft,
blur-edged dreamy
& it seems possible that this
is not about martyrdom,
playing saints
self defeating
it's hot, burning a line from
Paris to here, hot on your trail and
I'll bide my time, thinking about nothing but
how by Friday I can fold my skin around
your radiant form
(black holes around but aller baby,
I get the mechanisms), self-built and
agonizing that hide the soft underbelly,
and it's a virgin mary madonna thing,
you see
so don't be afraid, mother lover child
you see
I want to bask in you
for as long as I make you ignite


the edges are cut, crystalline, clear
a domed sphere
angles that distort our scene inside
a layer of uneasy, uneasy
in lighting
in towards the scene
our scene

(two, one.)


Epistolary in Fury


You have the most erotic mouth

Canine teeth that peek out

Pushing petal plump lips

The way the corners of your top lip

Escape the line of the lower

And the invitation issued,

I take it every time

The planes of your face make

A striking picture, eyelashes and eyes

Eyes wide open, baby blue, gentle

Feral mouth

Fierce nose, sloping and angled


I want to fuck you, hold your slender arms over your head

Own that boyish man

Narrow hips

Trace your jaw with my tongue and rape that mouth

Make that mouth twist and that voice!

Oh that voice, sweeping Luxembourgish accent,

Scream, revel, whine

You tease me, you can be quite cruel

Smiling as you feel a pebbling under my shirt

Kissing me like you mean it

Grinning with that mouth when you turn away

Why do I feel like I’m making love to a 17 year old nymph

When you are a 33 year old man?

In my guilt I kiss you, painting skin with sweat

And for that mouth, I’ll take your cruelty

At least for now.


wind up worlds

I will accept a wound;

One with meaning though, darling

I will accept your degradation

Just make it spit farther

Secret thrills from wordless lies

Quiet walls hum electric


Up, swing, to the right

Dancing days

Windows bright

Cups overfull, and you’ve been smoking too much

I lick your mouth to see if I can taste her

I run my hands down your thighs

Can I feel her?

Quiet walls hum electric


Up, swing, to the left

Dancing days

Windows Bright

I will accept a betrayal;

Because I love you, damnit

I will accept your nonchalance

If there is the chance of sparks

Harder chimes the church’s clock

Broke the last cup, working with the plastic ware

I grab my breasts to see if they exist

I grasp flesh in agony

Quiet walls hum electric


Up, swing, going mad

Dancing Days

Windows Bright

I will lie as if underwater

If the blue cancels my color

I will recover before you come home

So I can kiss you once more

He paints me anguish on computer screens

Stealing attention to feed an ego

Quiet walls hum electric


Up, swing, eyelids off

Dancing Days

Windows Bright

I will write you a poem

Breaking hearts leak words

I will sing to you when you’re gone

As you never ask to hear

I sing vehemently to your window

Out on your terrace

Furious with music, furious with you

Sickness, yes

I’m sick again

Quiet walls hum electric

Up, swing, moods awry

Dancing Days

Windows Bright

I’m sicker, sick, put me down

Before I sing out the rot and Paris loses it’s Spring forever

I’ll accept your help

Not if offered, but if forced

I’ll love you so fiercely

from June until December


Post a Comment